


go red go red, laugh white

by capricornia



Category: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: F/M, M/M, Makeup, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 01:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10451664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capricornia/pseuds/capricornia
Summary: "What do you think?" Conrad turns around self-consciously. The red material slopes down his broad back and goes almost to the floor. His bare feet are showing; he hasn't got on his stockings yet. The dress hasn't got any sleeves to it, and the muscles of Conrad's arms look doubly pronounced and about ten times hotter."You're going to need a sweater," Christopher says.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this idea just came to me in the middle of English class oops
> 
> title taken from "suppose an eyes" by gertrude stein

"God," Christopher says, looking at Conrad like he's a fancy dessert and a birthday party all rolled into one.  
  
"What do you think?" Conrad turns around self-consciously. The red material slopes down his broad back, around his buttocks, and down almost to the floor. His bare feet are showing; he hasn't got on his stockings yet. The dress hasn't got any sleeves to it, and the muscles of Conrad's arms look doubly pronounced and about ten times hotter.  
  
"You're going to need a sweater," Christopher says.  
  
"Yes, Millie said so. It's in the closet." Christopher gets the sweater for him without being asked, something he only does for Conrad and Millie.  
  
"You think this will cover up your arms?" Christopher asks doubtfully.  
  
Conrad laughs. "Magic, stupid. That's where you come in. You've got to put an illusion on me that makes me fit into this more. I need to have a more feminine shape. Also makeup." He mock-shudders, but Christopher knows he's excited for their mission. Christopher doesn't think he needs a more feminine shape; any more femininity and they'll both start to feel uncomfortable. But with an illusion, _they'll_ still be able to see the real Conrad, albeit with makeup on, even though everyone else will (hopefully) automatically assign him the role of [girl].  
  
"I reckon we'd better do the makeup before the illusion."  
  
"Okay." Conrad nods. "It's in that little purple bag thing of Elizabeth's. I don't know how to do makeup, though; do you?" He remembers only a little from when Anthea used to let him watch her put on makeup.  
  
Christopher puffs out his chest, gets an air of superiority. It's that _Of course I know this, Grant; I know everything!_ look. Conrad scowls before Christopher can open his mouth.  
  
"Whatever; we'll just both have to wing it." So they do, taking turns putting powder and goop all over Conrad's face, glad for the razor Flavian had brought back from Series Ten. The razor removed all the stubble on Conrad's face, and the liquid foundation goes over his cheeks and jawline smoothly. Christopher wants to half-ass this, of course, but Conrad insists they take their time.  
  
"We're infiltrating a dangerous smuggling ring," he reminds Christopher. "What if they catch on?"  
  
"You'll need to have completely different body language for them to _not_ catch on," Christopher mutters.  
  
"I know; Elizabeth told me. I've got to cross my legs when I walk, pretend I'm walking on a tightrope. I've _practiced_ , Christopher." Christopher's hand slows ever so slightly as he dusts Conrad's cheek with blusher. Conrad doesn't call him out on it.  
  
"Alright," Christopher says critically a half-hour later. Conrad looks at himself in the mirror. He looks fairly feminine, with the blush and the eyeshadow and the mascara. He can't quite figure out what's missing, but Christopher snaps his fingers. "I know what it is, Grant. Lipstick. You need lipstick and earrings." He fishes around in their suitcase, finds some deep red lipstick that matches the dress. The dress which, Conrad realizes, has powder and foundation-fingerprints all over the top.  
  
"We should have put on a smock," he groans.  
  
"Illusion, remember? Come on, I know there are earrings in here somewhere..."  
  
"Christopher, I haven't got my ears pierced." Conrad looks somewhat alarmed at the thought. Christopher straightens up from the suitcase, holding clip-on earrings.  
  
Conrad puts the earrings on, then applies the lipstick very carefully, trying not to get it anywhere but his lips. He always did like art in school, and this is nothing more than art on his face. Art that will help them infiltrate the smuggling ring, art that makes Christopher weak in the knees, but that's just an added bonus.  
  
"Alright, I reckon we're ready for the illusion." He stands up.  
  
"Hold still," Christopher says. Conrad lifts his arms sideways in the air and closes his eyes. Christopher wants to kiss the lipstick right off his mouth. He looks so damn _pretty_  Christopher doesn't know how he's going to stand it during this mission. He knows if he said anything about it to Conrad, Conrad would be miserable, because he'd feel like he were stealing Millie's place. Millie is not pretty, but Christopher loves her as strongly and as constantly as the sun. Conrad, though, might just be as hot as the sun, and then some. This affair that they've started is like a dying star--burning brightly, then collapsing in on itself. Christopher hopes the light they give each other will last for a long, long time. Already, they're feeling the burden of time: Conrad has to go back to Series Seven in just three months, when he turns eighteen. Christopher hasn't told him about the ring yet. It's hung around his neck, next to the one that holds his life. He's planning to give it to Millie around the holidays--"hols," as she still calls them.  
  
Conrad opens one eye, looks at Christopher. "Well?"  
  
Christopher shakes himself and casts the illusion. It'll make Conrad have a more feminine shape, and it'll smooth out his makeup, too. His hair they can do nothing about, because Christopher is afraid he won't be able to style an illusion, but they've brushed and sprayed it, and besides, there's a new fashion for girls to wear short hair--or, at least, that's what Millie wrote them from her university.  
  
"Ready?" Conrad asks as he pulls up the stockings and steps into the red heels.  
  
"Let's go give 'em hell," says Christopher, and opens the door and goes out first.


End file.
